


Shambles

by allaboutme7



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blame Tony, Brief Dream Sequence, Building Collapsal, Don't worry it's just Karen trying to calm Peter, Hart Island, Hurt Peter Parker, Hydra (Marvel), Hydra Soldiers, It never happened, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, POV Peter Parker, Panic Attacks, Precious Peter Parker, Prophetic Visions, Song: Never Going to Give You Up, Swearing, Two Shot, Wade Wilson Breaks the Fourth Wall, and it is actually real, but Tony still knows Peter somehow, but if I get asked enough I could continue it, i'll update tags as i go on, it's a really cool island, it's complicated - Freeform, it's in Bronx New York, just one, not majorly though, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-06-17 20:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15469467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allaboutme7/pseuds/allaboutme7
Summary: “Mr Stark,” he rasped. He tried to clear his throat. “I-I’m stuck. Under a building, again. I n-need help-p. I-” his body shook as he started coughing again.Or; Peter gets stuck under a building (again), Karen just wants to help, and Hydra may be at work.





	1. CHAPTER 1

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any Marvel character._ **

  


**Warning: Blood, Swearing, Building Collapses, Flashbacks, Panic Attacks, and a very protective Tony Stark.**

  


It happened again.

  


Of course, it would happen again. It was just the infamous ‘Parker-Luck’ he had had all throughout his life.  Parents dead, Skip, bullying, his Uncle dying (and all the guilt that came with it), along with the mistakes while on patrol as Spider-Man and disappointing Mr. Stark, so nothing really surprised him anymore.

  


That doesn't mean he didn’t panic when a building collapsed on him for a second time. 

  


He should have expected it, really. The guy he was fighting  _ had  _ been doing a lot of structural damage to the building while they were fighting. Even if he hadn’t noticed it at first. It was when they had both heard the telltale signs of it collapsing that they realized what was happening.

  


Peter heard a rumbling and cracks started to run down the walls and ceiling. His eyes rapidly scanned the area to find an exit.

  


“Karen?” His voice shook. “Where’s the fastest way to get out?”

  


“The fastest exit point is through the small, rectangle window near the top of the wall to your left. However, the foundation of the building is collapsing and if you attempted to leave it could crack and fall directly on top of you, which could be fatal. Even for someone of your healing abilities,” the A.I’s calm voice seemed unfitting in this situation. His breathing picked up slightly.

  


“O-okay then. No getting out of t-this. Um, how about how long till it falls?” he asked, stuttering.

“In the next few seconds. I’m sorry, Peter,” she responded. “Would you like me to call Tony Stark?”

  


“NO! Uhh, d-don’t call him, please, I’m f-fine,” came his panicked reply. 

  


“You don’t sound fine, Peter. Are you sure I shouldn’t call Tony Stark? It is part of one of my protocols.” Somehow, he thought he heard a hint of worry in her tone, or he was just imagining it.

  


“Of course it is,” he breathed. “”No, don’t call him. I can do this on my own.” He really didn’t want Mr Stark to see him panicking and crying.

  


“Three seconds until the building falls, Peter I suggest-” Karen's voice was cut off by the loud crash of the building falling. 

  


He was facing up this time. He didn’t know if that made this better, or worse.

  


He could hardly breathe. With a large slab of the ceiling on top of him, plus his panic, it was an overwhelming chase for air. Tears streamed down his face, he didn’t want this to happen again. He was most likely going to die down here, alone.

  


Everything hurt, his back, his stomach, both of his legs, his arms, his feet, his neck, his everything. His mind was in shambles, he could hardly tell if he was still stuck under the building Thoomes had dropped on him. He only snapped out of his stupor and panicked crying when Karen’s voice pulled through.

  


“-call? Calling Tony St-” She started.

  


“NO! Karen, don’t call Mr Stark, please,” he pleaded weakly.

  


“You are critically injured and you were unresponsive for several minutes,” she countered. She continued, “You need medical attention immediately.”

  


He gasped as another wave of anxiety came over him. Was it just him or was a pair of glowing green eyes lingering in the dark?

“N-no I’m..fine. Just, can you just um, g-ground me? Do you know what t-that means actually..?” He trailed off.

  


“Certainly. What would you like me to do?”

  


“J-just, I need to s-s-stay in this moment,” he took a deep breathe, or, at least tried to. He winced when a sharp pain shot through his whole body at the attempt.

  


“Maybe m-music, I d-don’t know,” he sniffled and closed his eyes.

  


“Playing ‘Never Going to Give You up’ by Rick Astley,” she said. 

  


His eyes snapped open and he choked. He was in between laughing and crying. Why that song? Of all the choices she could have decided between she chose a meme song.

  


_ We’re no strangers to love. _

_ You know the rules, and so do I. _

  


“Karen, w-why did you choose t-this song?” He was slightly smiling despite the situation.

  


“I noticed you play it a lot on your phone, and it is a very popular song. Why? Is there a problem?” She asked.

  


“Y-yeah I play it a lot but m-most of the time not v-voluntarily. N-no there’s not a problem, t-thanks K-karen,” he answered.

  


“No problem Peter, is this grounding you enough? May I call Tony Stark now?” She responded. He sighed, wincing right afterwards. He definitely had a broken rib or two.

  


“I can’t call him, Karen. I’d rather die than him being mad at me and taking the suit away again,” he whispered. Everything had started going a bit fuzzy, everything in his line of vision was slowly getting blurrier and blurrier. Whether from the tears, or the concussion he was guaranteed to have, he didn’t know. 

“And then I also wouldn’t be able to talk to you, which I don’t like the sound. I love talking to you,” he whispered softly, as to stop his stuttering and preserve his voice.

  


“I enjoy talking to you, Peter. That’s why I need inform Tony Stark of your current situation. I’m sorry, Peter,” she whispered back. He sniffled and closed his eyes in resignation.

  


“Okay, fine,” he muttered. Everything around him had started numbing slightly. The song finished and faded out. 

  


“Calling, Tony Stark.” 

  


There was a pause of silence as the phone was ringing. For a brief moment, he really thought Mr Stark wasn’t going to answer and he truly would die alone like this.

  


“Kid? What’s up, you never call me?” Mr Stark tone sounded worried when he picked up. Peter coughed sending sparks of pain all throughout his body.

  


“Mr Stark,” he rasped. He tried to clear his throat. “I-I’m stuck. Under a building, again. I n-need help-p. I-” his body shook as he started coughing again. He let out a short sob as his breathing picked up as the reality of the situation hit him again.

  


“Fuck, kid, where are you? What did you get yourself into this time….? F.R.I.D.A.Y. bring up his vitals and his location,” he ordered. “Get the suit ready also.”

  


“I don’t- I don’t know w-where I am, I g-got caught up in the f-fight,” he responded shaikly.

  


“Fight, what fight? Who were you fighting. Ugh, nevermind it doesn’t matter right now. F.R.I.D.A.Y says the suit’s too damaged so I can’t see your vitals, but I got your location…” he stopped.

  


“Mr S-stark?” The line was silent before he let out a shaky exhale.

  


“F.R.I.D.A.Y, suit,  _ now _ .” The metal clanking of the suit assembling was heard through the line. Peter was confused, what made Mr Stark sound so - dare he even say it -  _ scared. _

  


“Kid, how the _fuck_ did you land yourself in a _Hydra Facility_ \- the biggest one at that - on a fucking _island_??” Mr Stark asked, his voice sounding shaky.

  


“W-what? But I-I-I am  _ n-not  _ on an island!” He denied immediately. “H-how would I even  _ get _ on an i-island?”

  


“I don’t know, but you managed to do the impossible somehow. My main concern is _ why  _ you’re in a  _ HYDRA FACILITY!” _

  


“I d-don’t even know w-what a ‘Hydra F-Facility’ is. And - and I am p-p- _ positive _ I didn’t t-travel to an island! I was j-just fighting this dude, though he w-was a lot better than the n-normal criminals I f-fight,” Peter rambled off.

  


“ _ Shit _ , this is bad. Like really fucking bad. Like- nevermind, not the time,” Mr Stark let out a sigh. “Hang in there, Pete. I’m halfway there.” There was a pause of silence. 

  


“You said there was another guy? The one you fought? Where is he? Did he run like he was expecting the building to fall? Did he have any strange symbol-things anywhere on his clothing?” 

  


Peter blinked, then coughed. 

  


“Too m-many questions, um. I-” Peter faltered. “Where  _ did _ he go?” He mumbled to himself, but Mr Stark still heard it.

  


“I d-don’t really rem-remember, I was k-kinda too busy panicking t-to pay attention to him. He h-had this red octopos thing-y on his sh-shoulder, why?”

  


“Oh  _ fuck _ , I need to tell S.H.I.E.L.D about this. How did this even happen? How did they get you all the way onto  _ Hart Island  _ without anyone knowing you none the wiser?” Mr Stark definitely sounded panicked and scared now. 

“What? W-why? Mr Stark, I don’t u-understand, what’s happening? What’s H-Hart Island?  I’ve never h-heard of it…” Peter trailed off. 

  


“Not many have,” he started. “It’s an island up in Bronx, uninhabited, filled with bodies. It’s where one of Hydra’s main and biggest facility in the world is located. There’s not much information on Hart Island on the internet, mainly due to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Hydra is this organization, if you can call it that. It’s more like a huge cult, honestly. They’re bad. Like,  _ really _ bad. I need to get you out of there as fast as I can. I’m almost there, just five minutes away,” he explained.

  


“O-okay.” Silence. 

  


Peter tried to take a breath, but just he started coughing again, more violent than any other time. A copper taste filled his mouth. 

  


“P-punctured lung-g,” he rasped out, breaking the silence.

  


“Punctured lung? You have a punctured lung?  _ Shit _ , that’s not good. I’m no doctor like Bruce but I know that that is a very bad thing,” Mr Stark said, followed with a sigh of relief as he finally landed next to the demolished Hydra Facility.

  


“Okay, Pete, I’m here. I’ll get you out in no time.” 

  


“Oka’ M’Staaark,” he slurred back. He really wanted to succumb to the darkness that was at the corners of his vision, but he knew he had to stay awake, at least ‘till Mr Stark got to him.

  


He heard the pounding of the Iron Man armour somewhere nearby, but the sound was echoey to his ears. The rubble above and around him started to shift and groan until they were finally moved out of the way.

  


“-eter? Peter! Answer me!” He then realized Mr Stark was talking to him, and sitting next to him. In person.

  


“Hiii Mr’Star’k when’d youuu get here?” His head lolled to the side, facing Mr Stark, who was fully in his Iron Man armour. His faceplate was lifted up, but as hard as Peter concentrated and squinted, he couldn’t actually see the man’s face. 

  


“Shushhhh don’t worry about it, kid. The others are on their way, I don’t want to risk moving you and creating another problem,” He hushed him.

  


Peter tried to nod, though he didn’t actually hear anything Mr Stark said. He closed his eyes, too tired to keep them open any longer.

  


“Peter? Peter no, don’t sleep yet-!” Was the last thing Peter heard before he fell into blissful oblivion.

  


* * *

  


  


_ It was dark, and it was cold. He was scared.  _

  


_ He was in a maze. So many twists and turns leading to dead end after dead end. Going back and forth, trying to fix and find where he was before.  _

  


_ The maze seemed never ending, one mistake lead to another, leaving hi more lost than he was before. _

  


_ If he had enough time, he could try to make a mental map of the place - but no he couldn’t do that. He was running, as fast as his legs allowed him. His panting breath coming out in front of him in the chilly air. _

  


_ He was running for his life, and his sanity, and he knew it. _

  


_ He couldn’t stop to catch his breath, otherwise that - that  _ thing _ would catch up and he’d be dead or worse, tortured and - _

  


_ A ruffle of the maze bushes stopped his train of thought. It was right there, hiding, watching him like a predator and he was the prey.  _

  


_ He was frozen, he couldn’t move, no matter how much his mind screamed at him to do so, he couldn’t. He was completely paralyzed, as the  _ thing  _ slowly crept its way out of it’s hiding place, savouring it’s prey being immobilized - however temporary it may be.  _

  


_ It looked human - (black hair, flowed down to it’s mid-back; cold, blue eyes; skin pale; from his point of view, height 6’2” if he had to guess) - but there was one thing it did have that no human normally had.  _

  


_ It had wings.  _

  


_ Not the pretty or beautiful kind most stories talked about. It was made of metal - if the light shining off of it was anything to tell by - and had sharp, jagged edges which were coated in some substance. He really didn’t want to know.  _

  


_ They were curled into the thing’s back, not in a fighting stance but ready to be at a moments notice. _

  


_ It came to a stop, just three feet away from him. It smiled, or what looked like a smile. It was malicious, teeth filled with what he  _ knew _ was blood. They looked to have been sawed into the way they are now - the sharpest teeth he had ever seen before - and he faintly thought in the back of his mind that they would rip through human skin like jello. _

  


_ Then, it spoke.  _

  


_ “The time has come. Be ready, we  _ will  _ prevail. Потому что вы будете со смертью или страдаете своим непроизвольным умом.” _

  


_ It’s voice was garbled and rough, as if never having spoken before. It’s voice was filled with what sounded like a sick form a glee and malice. He had no idea what the long string of gibberish (to him, at least), was. But he was sure it didn’t mean anything good. He memorized and stored it away in his mind to look up later, if there was going to  _ be _ a later for him. _

  


_ It seemed the thing had one last thing it had to say. It was whispered two words into the night, but he could hear it as if it was said right next to his ears. His stomach filled with apprehension and dread, mixing in with the terror he already felt.  _

  


_ “Hail Hydra.” - _

  


 - And he woke up.

  



	2. CHAPTER 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry

Peter’s breath came in large pants, his body jerking every now and then. It was quiet around him, bar the thrum of electricity around him that only his ears would be able to hear. He could feel something, maybe a mask, covering his mouth uncomfortably.

 

He opened his eyes, to see the ceiling of and the lights, thankfully, turned off. Beside him was a monitor, which was showing his rapid heart rate, oxygen levels, and other things, some of which he didn’t recognize. 

 

There was two chairs, one directly next to him, and the other around five feet away from his bed.

 

Both were unoccupied.

 

His limbs were held down by what looked like physical restraints (white straps, made of what he thought was a nylon fiber), which made him panic a little. There was an IV line stuck into his right arm where one of the straps were, making it  _ very  _ uncomfortable. 

 

He didn’t know why he was strapped down but he  _ sure  _ didn’t like it. He tugged at the restraints, managing to aggravate his IV line, which started lightly bleeding. As soon as he thought he was about to finally get one of his arm restraints off, he heard two sets of rapid steps coming from some hallway on the other side of the building.

 

They got closer and closer, until they reached right in front of his door. Then, his door swung open with a BANG as it hit the wall, denting it. There Mr Stark stood, along with another man whom he recognized as Bruce Banner. His brain screeched to a stop.

 

_ The _ Bruce Banner. The one he’d been a fanboy of for forever. He knew the guy lived in the Avengers Tower but he had never met the man, until now.

 

He stared at the man with glazed eyes, even as said man and his mentor rushed towards his bedside.

 

“Peter? Peter, hellooooooo~?” Mr Stark asked, nudging Peter’s side to draw his attention.

 

“Nng,” Was all he could manage, both with the shock, and with (what he now definitely knew was an oxygen mask), on his face. Dr Banner, thankfully, noticed his troubles and rose the bed up and elevated Peter so he could sit up some, and took the mask off, plus, snapping the restraints that were on his wrists.

 

“Dr Banner,” his voice rasped. Whether it was because of misuse, or the fact  _ Dr Banner  _ was in front of him, he didn’t know. He cleared his throat, then coughed.

 

“Uh, just Bruce, please,” the man gave an awkward smile while fiddling with Peter’s IV line.

 

“You- you’re  _ The  _ Bruce Banner! I’ve read all your papers and your research on gamma radiation is  _ fascinating _ !” Peter suddenly burst out. Dr Banner blinked and let out a surprised laugh.

 

“My- my research? And you understood it?” He shifted his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

 

“Told you the kid was smart,” Mr Stark smiled in pride. Dr Banner muttered something under his breath that sounded like ‘You’re such a dad’ but Mr Stark, thankfully, didn’t hear it. However, Peter unfortunately did with his advanced hearing. A red blush made it’s way all across his face and his face warmed considerably. 

 

“Peter? You alright? You’re lookin’ a little flushed...Are you coming down with something?” Mr Stark put a hand on his forehead, which just made him blush even harder, if that was possible.

 

“You’re warm,” he muttered, “Brucie, is he sick?”

 

Dr Banner chuckled at the display. “No, he’s not sick. Just a case of embarrassment,” he answered.

 

“So,” Peter squeaked, he cleared his throat, trying to save himself from more embarrassment. “Why are you guys here? And how did I get here? How long have I been unconscious? Where-” 

 

“Geez Pete, calm down. One question at a time,” Mr Stark chided humorously. 

 

“Sorry Mr Stark,” Peter smiled sheepishly.

 

“Tony-” The man tried to correct.

 

“Anyway, why are you guys here?” He repeated his first question. 

 

“Well, I thought that was kind of obvious, but you’re allowed to not think before saying right now I suppose. With the concussion and everything,” Tony started. He paused for a second, then continued. “Anyway, after you called me with the whole ‘A building fell on me!’, when I was on my way over I got FRIDAY to contacted the team and I told them about what happened, and Bruce is the designated medic for the team, so he went to the med-bay and waited for me to get you here. He fixed you up, you were in a mini-coma for around five- maybe six days now? And yeah, FRIDAY told us that you had woken up and all that stuff so Bruce and I immediately came here. That’s it,” Mr Stark rambled off, and then shrugged at the end.

 

“Though, the other Avengers, except for Thor, are waiting outside the door right now, they were rather worried,” Dr Banner added. Peter’s dropped open.

 

“W-wait, you mean the  _ actual  _ Avengers? Why?” He was confused, why would the Avengers be worried about  _ him _ ? He was just a random kid, as far as they knew.

 

“Uh, yeah. Well...you know about that whole ‘secret-identity’ thing? Well, to put it simply, I may have told them your identity. But I had to!” Mr Stark said hastily, raising his hands up in surrender (As if Peter could actually  _ do _ anything him in his current condition). 

 

“Oh,” Peter frowned. He really didn’t know how to react, nobody other than Mr Stark knew who he was before. Now a whole  _ team _ of people knew, the Avengers even. Suddenly, he grew very, very nervous. He knew Dr Banner had said they were worried about them, but, he had never actually met any of them outside of fighting with them. What if they didn’t like him? What if they thought he was too young? Or what if they  _ hated him? What- _

 

“Peter! Calm down! Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking, I’m sure it’s not true at all,” Mr Stark’s voice broke him out of his spiral. Peter took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. 

 

“Sorry,” he murmured, he let his head drop to his chest in embarrassment. 

 

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m sure they’ll love you. How could they not?” Peter could practically  _ hear _ the smile in Mr Stark’s voice. He opened his eyes and lifted his head and sure enough, he was giving Peter the most encouraging smile he’s ever seen on Mr Stark’s face. Peter gave a small smile back. 

 

“Thanks, Mr Stark.”

 

“Kid,  _ please _ call me Tony. I can’t take it anymore, I’ll do anything to get you to stop calling me ‘Mr Stark’,” Mr Stark  _ begged  _ him. Peter suddenly had a brilliant idea.

 

“Anything?” He asked.

 

“Uh- Well, with that smile of yours I’m getting a little nervous, but yeah, anything,” He confirmed hesitantly. 

 

“Friday, record that and send it to my phone. I’ll need that for later,” Peter addressed the ceiling, which was where Friday’s speakers and camera’s were generally located.

 

“Of course, Peter,” She instantly responded. 

 

“Uh, why did you do that?” Mr Stark- _ Tony _ definitely sounded nervous now. Peter smiled mischievously. 

 

“I’ll be using that later, probably when I’m back to normal and all. Is that okay with you,  _ Tony _ ?” Peter emphasized his name, trying to get used to saying it. Mr- Tony’s eyes practically sparkled when Peter used his first name.

 

“Oh, whatever you’re going to make me do or say will be  _ so worth it _ now that you’re callin’ me Tony.” 

 

Dr Banner, who Peter forgot was actually in the room, finally decided to jump in on the conversation again.

 

“Okay, as adorable as that was, we should probably let the others in now,” he nodded towards the door.

 

“Ohhh do we  _ have  _ to?” Tony all but whined to Dr Banner.

 

Dr Banner shot Tony a look. 

 

“ _ Yes _ , they’ve been waiting ever since we came in here - which was what? Half an hour ago or so,” he pointed out.

 

“Fiiiiiiiiiine,” Tony reluctantly agreed, he sat in the chair next to Peter and took his hand. 

 

“Peter,” he started, “I know you’re a fanboy of all the Avengers - don’t deny it - but you  _ did _ just wake up from a five/six day coma so don’t over excite yourself. Don’t say you won’t, you practically did with Bruce, and that’s probably not the best to move around that much,” he continued. Peter opened his mouth for a second, before closing it and pouting. Then, he realized something.

 

“WAit, did you say I’ve been in a  _ coma _ for  _ six days _ ??” His voice cracked. Tony raised his eyebrows.

 

“Yeah, I said that a while ago actually, but that’s fine. You’re body needed to heal up and everything,” he responded airily. Though his eye seemed to twitch as he finished talking. 

 

“There’s some other things too, but we can talk about that once the other Avengers get in here,” Dr Banner interjected.

 

“Okayyy. Thank you, Dr Banner,” Peter smiled. Dr Banner shook his head.

 

“Just Bruce.”

 

Dr - Bruce cleared his throat and gestured to the door, as if to say ‘can I now?’ Tony’s bottom lip jutted out slightly before it disappeared and he gave him the go ahead. Bruce headed over to the door and exited, presumably going to the next room over where Peter suspected the Avengers were residing.

 

How he hadn’t heard them earlier, he had no clue. Maybe the room they were in was sound-proof? But why? Whatever - it didn’t matter anyway. Peter took a deep breath, trying to relax into the stiff, hospital-like bed. 

 

The Avengers. Coming in here. To see him. Because they were  _ worried _ ? Why would they be worried? Actually - now that he actually thought about it, they probably just want to interrogate him. His heart sank a little at the thought, but before his mind could go any farther, Tony spoke up.

 

“Don’t freak out too much. They’re just people, I get that you’re a fanboy, I do. But I don’t want you overworking yourself. Especially when you’re not in the condition to do so. I’m serious about this, Okay?” Peter immediately wanted to protest, he wasn’t a baby. He could totally handle this. But the soft look he saw in Tony’s eyes were all it took for him to cave, so he just nodded his head and gave a small smile. 

 

“Yeah. I got it.” 

 

“Okay, good. Because I do  _ not  _ need anymore shocks like the one you gave me here. I mean, kid, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Tony sighed. 

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even really know what’s going on, then or now,” Peter admitted. He felt guilty, he didn’t mean to scare him. Tony ruffled his hair quickly, before he could protest.

 

“It’s alright, wasn’t in your control,” Tony shrugged, “Most of it wasn’t at least. But hey, at least you’re okay. I wouldn’t know what to do if anything had happened to you.” 

 

That was probably  _ the  _ most heartfelt thing Peter had ever heard Tony ever say. Today was a day of firsts apparently. 

 

“Nothing happened, thanks to you. I always have you to trust to save me.” Peter murmured, slightly embarrassed by what he was saying, but meaning it just as much as anything else. Peter turned and have a lopsided smile and Tony returned the sentiment.

 

They both became aware they were not alone anymore in the room when Bruce once again cleared his throat. Peter’s face flushed, but he tried to hold it back as hard as he could. 

 

“Right, we’re going to pretend we didn’t see that heartwarming moment between you two and move on,”  _ Hawkeye _ said. The others rolled their eyes at his statement. They surrounded Peter’s bed, Hawkeye sitting in the seat next to the one Tony was sitting in. They were the only two sitting, and the others were standing or leaning against something. On the inside, Peter was ready to burst. The  _ Avengers  _ were here, all of them, plus some others he surprisingly didn’t recognize. Like the dude with the  _ wicked  _ metal arm next to -  _ holy shit - _ Captain America.

 

As if sensing his thoughts,  _ Captain America  _ gave  _ Peter _ a small smile out of the corner of his mouth and waved lightly.

 

“Hey Spider-Man, or Peter. Whichever you prefer,”  _ CAPTAIN AMERICA  _ started, “How are you feeling? Better, hopefully?”

 

“Y-yeah, yeah. Better. A lot better, mostly,” Peter replies, still awestruck, though he tried to hide it. 

 

“Mostly?” Tony interjected, with a raised brow. 

 

“Yeah, mostly. I still have a sore throat, and - and…” Peter’s mind went to when he woke up. The panic he had felt right as he jolted, before it went away as he had assessed his situation. In that time, he had somehow forgotten about the  _ terrifying  _ nightmare he had had. It felt too real, too….meaningful, and it was scary. How did he even forget in the first place? It seemed to completely consume his mind at the moment.

 

The weird thing was, he could remember every detail. Every feeling, every footstep, the burning of his lungs, the exact words being said. Wait, the... _ thing  _ had said something. In a different language, too. One he didn’t know, but was able to recognize as Russian. How? He hadn’t a clue, but he wasn’t complaining. He remembered the Russian words with a startling clarity, but was it  _ actually  _ Russian? 

 

A plan starting to form in his head, his mind started racing in ways to execute it. He was startled out of his thoughts and planning with a cold slap in the face with water. 

 

He immediately sputtered, coming back to all of his senses and realized everyone was staring at him, looking concerned, Tony above all. 

 

“Peter! Are you with us yet?” Tony shook his shoulder roughly. Ow.

 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Peter asked, confused. Toby let out a reliever breath, and leaned back into the chair. He hadn’t been in his thoughts for that long, had he? 

 

“You stopped speaking mid-sentence and just went blank. That was..” Tony checked his watch, “five minutes, thirty-six seconds ago, to be exact.” 

 

“Come again?” Peter blinked rapidly, he certainly didn’t expect that number. 

 

“Five minutes….forty-two seconds ago,” he repeated. 

 

Peter rolled his eyes, he didn’t need him to actually repeat it. He was just shocked at the fact he had spaced out for nearly six minutes, he had never done that before. It was weird. And probably suspicious, considering the circumstances lately. He mentally filed this memory along with the plan, now titled ‘The Plan™️’, into a corner of his mind so he could come back to later.

 

“Yeah, uh..sorry about that, I didn’t mean to,” Peter sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at all of the Avengers in embarrassment.

 

“Ahh no it’s fine, we-“ Captain America started, but was interrupted.

 

“What were you thinking about?” Black Widow asked, her face blank. 

 

Peter had the instant urge to confess, but he pushed that down. She was scary, but he could hold his composure, right? Peter didn’t know why - but he wanted to keep whatever was going on with him a secret. Maybe it was because if nothing was wrong and if he was just way too paranoid, he could forget it even happened and not waste anyone’s time. 

 

He knew he could probably tell them all right now, and Black Window, who he think knows Russian, would be able to hash it out right here. But  _ something,  _ compelled him to stay quiet. 

 

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head, raised his eyebrows and put on the best confused expression he could. He knew she was suspicious, though he had no clue why. Maybe she was naturally suspicious of everything. 

 

Peter didn’t know if the other Avengers could tell, but he felt a noticeable difference in the energy of the room compared to how it was before. The atmosphere was charged.

 

“What were you think about?” Black Widow repeated, slowly, almost challengingly. Challenging him to lie again. Holy shit, what did he get himself into. Before he could verbalize a response, let alone coherent, Tony, thankfully, interjected. 

 

“Uhh, well, that doesn’t really matter anyway, does it?” Tony rolled his eyes, he was apparently completely oblivious to the tension in the room. 

 

“Right,” Peter responded, he sent a smile to Black Widow and knew she would interpret it as him being smug for evading her, when in reality he was just relieved he had escaped  _ that _ conversation.

 

“So, anyway, what happened when I was out?” He asked curiously. Their faces winced, and he didn’t think it was going to be anything good. 

 

One thing he knew for sure though; he needed to tread lightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I have a lot to explain here. It’s been literally months rather than the week or two I said, and I have an explanation! At first, it was just me taking care of my mom because she was really sick and in the hospital, then I got really sick and my mom overworked me so *I* ended up in the hospital. And by the time I was healthy again (it took 3-4 weeks) and by then school had started. So, I did that and it was kind of stressful. And I kind of fell into a bit of a depression, but I’d prefer to ignore that. Exams ended two weeks ago and second semester has started, and i know it’ll be more stressful since I have some big projects and end of year exams, but I found some time to start writing again! And also - I literally couldn’t write just one chapter and wrap it up like that. So, this is becoming a multi-chaptered story. Sorry lol. Im currently writing chapter three, and by the time I post this, it should be done and I’ll be working on chapter four. Hopefully. (Edit: Yep! I am. Thankfully) I’m gonna keep this short, so I’ll end that here. Yeah. Thanks for reading!


	3. CHAPTER 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, it’s been a week. Hopefully I can keep up a weekly update schedule, but I can’t guarentee it? Sorry about that lol. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

They didn’t tell him much. Or anything, really.

 

They said they could handle it themselves and he didn’t need to get too involved. Everything they had told him could be summarized into one sentence; Hydra was the one who had messed with him, Hydra was the one who had mysteriously transported him to Hart island. Which, he had already known, given from what Tony had said when he went looking for him.

 

What they really wanted was his side of the story. They needed ‘all of the information to come to any conclusive evidence’ and anything he knew or remembered would be useful. 

 

Now, Peter was generally a nice, forgiving, genuine, and kind person. But there were  _ times,  _ where he could be something other than that. 

 

Times like these, where he was being petty and told them he remembers nothing.

 

It was only fair! He justified in his mind, he knew they were keeping a ton from him, and it would only be fair to do them the same favor, right? 

 

They took it for what it was, though he could tell they were disappointed, saying it was reasonable seeing as he had apparently had a concussion and forgetting things is common when you get one. 

 

All in all, after a two-hour discussion/brief with Peter, the Avengers clambered out of the medbay with just as much information they had when they walked in. 

 

And,  _ damn, _ he was slightly sadistic because that made him feel proud that he had went through an entire talk with the Avengers amd came out on top. Even with two spies,  _ spies _ , Peter had done it, he never even had to take an acting class! He guessed it was probably from keeping his secret identity for so long that helped him get through it. It was a secret still to this day for a reason, after all.

 

Bruce stayed and checked up on his physical injuries, which had been fully healed by the time the discussion was over, and he said he was all good. He might have heard Bruce suggest that Peter should stay and rest for at least one more day, but hey, he might as well have been deaf. 

 

It was needless to say, as soon as he was fully cleared, Peter bolted to ~his~ room in the tower, yeah, he had a room. He had only used it once, though. He stopped by the kitchen to get a quick snack (and by snack he meant the rest of half a turkey that was left in the fridge) and quickly warmed it up (or tried to at least, it was hard to warm up a turkey), and it was still cold on the inside, he found out later when he bit into it, but his stomachs didn’t really care, and neither did he. 

 

After he had finished eating and his stomach was quiet, he went over to his backpack that Tony had retrieved and put into his room, and shuffled through his items. His laptop, his phone, his suit (that Tony had apparently repaired), and some clothes along with his school books. 

 

He hesitated, glanced around his room and wondered if it was safe or not. Tony  _ had  _ said there were no cameras in his room ages ago, when he first told him about his room. But, Tony could have changed that, couldn’t he?

 

“Hey Friday?” He started curiously. Was Friday listening in as well? 

 

“Yes, Peter?” Her cool Irish accent rang out from a mysterious direction. Huh, so she was in his room.

 

“Can you...see anything I’m doing? Is there a camera, or maybe a voice recorder or something in here?” He asked hesitantly. He trusted Friday, but she  _ was _ capable of lying to him if it was in her code to do so. 

 

“No, Peter. The only recording device in your room is the one to activate myself. I only listen in on you when my wake call is activated or said,” she answered, in what he thinks sounds like honesty. 

 

“Okay, right,” he frowned for a second. Was he going to take the risk? 

 

_ He put a tracker in your suit, remember? He doesn’t trust you. You can’t trust  _ **_him_ ** _ , _ his mind helpfully whispered to him. 

 

An idea suddenly sprang into his head.

 

He quickly fished out his laptop, opening terminal and going into the Stark Servers for the tower, and located Friday’s code. He cracked his knuckles. He could totally do this. Okay, well, he isn’t proficient in coding but he at least knows some basics. That’s surely enough, isn’t it? 

 

It was decidedly  _ not. _

 

He spent over half an hour scouring through Friday’s code, just  _ looking _ for something that would indicate Tony or Friday had access or had recordings of his room at all. But that half hour was put to good use, as soon as he came across a certain protocol named ‘Secret Teenage Mutant Ninja Spider’. Which, from what he knew about coding, was a pretty long name for a protocol name. Peter guessed he probably just thought that line was way too good to pass up.

 

The protocol read that if he was in any danger; mental, physical, or emotional, or if he was having suspicious actions (Peter guesses that came from the whole Homecoming incident), his actions were to be recorded, catalogued for review in Friday’s servers for Tony to later review. 

 

As he was reading it, he started panicking. He was doing something suspicious now, wasn’t he? Looking through Friday’s code and the protocols put in place? 

 

Peter quickly hacked into the code to turn off the recording function, and instead put in place that any time Tony asked or went to review suspicious activity, either nothing would come up, or stuff only when he was out of his room would appear. The coding was a tad clumsy and rushed, but he didn’t have time to care for that. 

 

As soon as it was down, he sighed in utter relief and flopped back down on his bed. He looked at his watch, oh  _ heck.  _ It had taken him a whole hour to adjust and write the new code. It had  _ felt  _ like only five minutes.

 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, allowing himself to have a moment of rest after everything that had just happened. He ran it through his mind again…

 

_ SHIT! _

 

He needed to delete the footage from the last two hours! How had he nearly forgotten that? That could have compromised his whole mission!

 

Peter’s eyes shot open and he jerked up, scanning through numerous surveillance cams until he reached his room’s. He wound back until he got to when he entered his room, and deleted all of the footage from that point, and replaced it with the footage (from when he had stayed the night previously) of him sleeping, and looped it just in case. He added a new protocol, simply calling it ‘Legally Blind’. All it did was automatically stop recording and replace the camera with the same footage of him sleeping when he said the code phrase.

 

He ran through and tested all of the new coding and adjustments he made one last time before practically moaning in relief and closing out the Stark Servers. 

 

He slammed his laptop closed, perhaps a little harder than he meant to, but he was exhausted. While it hadn’t been much physical work, it was a lot of mental. Peter guessed he had maybe overworked himself, especially considering he had just woken up from a mini-coma with a concussion not even three hours ago. He guessed that was also the reason he had a killer headache, too. 

 

While he was hungry, Peter was more tired at the moment. He knew he had just woken up but he was  _ tired. _ And - on his first day back into the land of consciousness he had been changing  _ Tony Stark _ \- the genius’, code. 

 

He cleared off his bed, putting his backpack next to it and placing his laptop on the desk by the wall, before straight-up collapsing into the warm, inviting covers. He didn’t even bother getting under the blankets.

 

-

 

_ He was here again, wasn’t he? He was running for his life. Again. _

 

_ He was in the maze, the same maze, it seemed. The same breathing rushing behind him, the same terrifying fear he had felt last time. It was all the same.  _

 

_ What was happening? Was he having the same dream? Why is it the  _ exactly  _ the same as he remembered it so far?  _

 

_ Peter made a sharp left, different from what he did last time at this point of the maze. He ran down the lengthy one-way trail as fast as he could. He had no time to pause, if he wanted a different outcome than last time, he couldn’t freeze like he had before.  _

 

_ He heard a large whoosh of wind and a flap, and before he realized it, the  _ thing _ was standing before him again. Same terrifying looks as the last time, so that was just lovey.  _

 

_ Why wasn’t he moving? He was just standing there, again. Like last time, frozen. He thought, since everything else in the dreams has been the exact same other than what he changed, the  _ thing  _ would say the same thing. The whole ‘The time has come. Be ready, we will prevail,’ thing.  _

 

_ He was wrong. _

 

_ “Peter Parker,”  _ it  _ hissed, the same cruel, twisted, sadistic - and how many other adjectives to describe it - smile. “You learned some, but not enough.”  _

 

_ It sent chills down his spine.  _

 

_ “Why?” He whispered, “Why are you doing this? What are you even doing? Why?” He continued in the same whisper, he didn’t know how it could or would hear him, but he knew it would. _

 

_ “Потому что вы будете со смертью или страдаете своим непроизвольным умом,”  _ it  _ said the same thing as last time. And in an instant, the  _ thing _ lunged and clawed at his throat, and he felt the each molecule of skin tear and the blood gush from his neck.  _

 

_ “Hail Hydra,” the whisper came from everywhere and yet nowhere at all. And it was the last thing he heard yet again, before  _

 

He woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter kinda sucks and it’s more of a filler; but exciting things are happening soon! Please, I love comments!


	4. CHAPTER 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have *sworn* I posted this last week - and that’s not even me just making excuses. I don’t know what happened, maybe I just misclicked something, I don’t know. I’m so sorry though!

A strangled scream tore from Peter’s throat as his body jerked side to side before completely falling over to the side, right out of the bed. 

 

His body landed on his side, crushing his arm against the floor while his head hit the corner of the nightstand. 

 

Peter tried to catch his breath as best as he could. His chest burned, and now his arm and head hurt. He scrambled up into a sitting position and leaned against the side of his bed, cradling his arm to his chest, hoping it would help him breathe better.

 

It did, only some, but it was better then hyperventilating on the floor like he was just a second ago. 

 

It had happened  _ again.  _ That stupid dream - nightmare was more accurate. He remembered the entire thing with such clarity that he knew it would be ingrained into his head forever, just as the last one had.

 

He need to figure what the heck was going on with him  _ now. _ He did  _ not  _ want to have another one of those nightmares again, ever. It was time to start The Plan™️, it was officially on.

 

“Friday? Can I see the road?” He looked to the ceiling for her response.

 

“You’re legally blind, Peter,” she replied calmly.

 

Peter pumped the arm that wasn’t hurt into the air, his left arm, and cheered. The protocol had worked, with Friday responding ‘You’re legally blind,’ it meant he was now off the grid and not being actively recorded. 

 

Peter jumped up, but immediately regretted it as the blood rushed to his head and he immediately crashed back down again, where he tried to use his arms to hold himself up, and  _ regret  _ flashing through him in an instant as he hissed through his teeth. Damn, what had he done to his arm? Or his head, for that matter? 

 

He raised his left hand to touch his head, and realized when he pulled it back down, that his head was bleeding lightly. 

 

He groaned in despair before sighing and slowly getting up this time, making sure to avoid moving his head or right arm too much and headed towards the bathroom in his room. 

 

He flicked on the light, and winced at the bright light, before looking into the mirror to asses the damage. Peter’s hair was sticky and tainted with red, covering a section of his head, he tried to gently move some of it away, and saw a gash with a steady flow of blood coming from it. 

 

“Could’ve been worse,” He muttered to himself, “head wounds typically bleed a lot, even if it’s not that big of a deal. I’m fine,” he convinced himself. He grabbed a wash rag and attempted to wipe away the blood some.

 

“What did my health teacher say…? Head wounds, not too much pressure, warm water? Ice? Ugh, I don’t remember,” which was odd, considering he remembered most things. 

 

Once enough blood was cleaned away and the gash could be clearly seen, Peter opened two or three drawers before finding some gauze to wrap his head with, and he made sure to do it lightly. His right arm ached while wrapping his head, but he powered through the pain. His head was more vulnerable than his arm at this point. 

 

But when he was finally done with his head, he let his arm sag onto the counter. The amount of effort he put into keeping it up in the first place was worrying, too. 

 

He poked it a few times, examining the bruising patterns and pain-level, along with his ability to move it easily, and conclude he had probably just fractured it, a closed fracture at that, seeing as there was no break of his skin.

 

If he put it in a splint and didn’t bother it, his healing would help out and it would be gone within two/three hours, at most. 

 

Meaning he was  _ most likely  _ good. Knowing Peter though, you could never be sure. He had only woken up yesterday and yet so far managed to damage his head, maybe give himself a minor concussion if he was honest with himself, and possibly fracture his arm. And he hadn’t even left his room, too! 

 

Peter grumbled at the unfairness of life, but he caught something out of the corner of his eye just as he was about to leave the bathroom. 

 

He looked into the mirror, leaning closer, and what he saw made his blood run cold. Two red, jagged lines, going down from the top of his chin to his collarbone on each side of his face. Stark against his now pale-white complexion.

 

It wasn’t just a nightmare anymore.

 

-

 

After two panic attacks, and nearly passing out, Peter eventually resolves that a) he’s never sleeping again, b) he needs to figure out what’s going on with him c) also figure out what Hydra has to do with it and d) that he’s very, very hungry. But he can’t go out to the kitchen and get anything for  _ at least _ two hours. It had been only an hour away before, but then he had accidentally undid any progress it had made during his freak-out. 

 

So that was great. 

 

During those two hours though, he realized he could accomplish at least a few things. 

 

Peter grabbed his backpack again before leaning over to pull out a pin that stuck out on the side of the bag, which opened the secret pocket he had there. This was where he kept his top-secret-spy-Spider-Man stuff, and Peter always felt ten times more sneaky when he opens it. 

 

He pulled out a thick, black laptop and his burner phone, leaving the other items that were in his secret pocket alone, for now.

 

After opening the computer, he set out onto one of the chat logs after it had started up. The chat was empty, so he sent out;

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : Anyone on?

 

.   . .

 

**Dios De Las Travesuras** : You’ve been missing for days. 

 

**Princesa De [REDACTED]** : Dude!!! Where have you been? You’ve missed out in so much. Not to mention the  _ memes _ , { AUTOMATIC DELETE }

 

**Princesa De [REDACTED]** : Whoops, forgot we couldn’t use names

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : Why are you guys on anyway?

 

**Dios De Las Travesuras** : What other reason?

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : Aww, were you guys worried about me? I’m flattered~ 

 

**Princesa De [REDACTED]** : Don’t let it go to your head, polla

 

**Princesa De [REDACTED]** : You know, I still don’t understand why we have to use Spanish for nicknames. You’d think it would be some forgotten language or one we made up ourselves. But no, we go with Spanish, one of the most common languages.

 

Peter sighed, this question had come up in every single conversation.

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : I’ve explained this too many times. It’s the only language we  _ all _ know other than sign language. Though El Embaucador does have a large advantage with his hablan a todos

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : Speaking of languages, does anyone know Russian? It was one of the languages I didn’t think I’d need to learn 

 

**Princesa De [REDACTED]** : Nah, sorry bro 

 

**Dios De Las Travesuras** : I know all languages 

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : Yeah but you don’t actually speak it, do you? 

 

**Dios De Las Travesuras** : Correct. Lo siento, araña pequeño. I only bothered to learn and be fluent in three Midgardian languages 

 

**Princesa De [REDACTED]** : Why do you need to know Russian anyway? 

 

Peter briefly considered telling them the truth, but that thought was gone in a near instant.

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : No reason. Just want to learn

 

**Princesa De [REDACTED]** : Really, you’re gonna lie to us like that 

 

Peter felt a flash of guilt bloom in his stomach.

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : Look, it’s classified. I can’t even explain over text, I just need to learn Russian

 

**Dios De Las Travesuras** : The entire language? 

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : Well I only need to translate a certain phrase but I figured why not learn the whole language, you know? It could come in handy. Plus I don’t trust google translate 

 

Not to mention the fact that Hydra spoke using Russian, too. 

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : So none of you know Russian….what about Piscina? 

 

**Princesa De [REDACTED]** : Puh-lease, that dufus? He only knows sign language and Spanish like the rest of us. The plebeian 

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : The amount of sass in that reply. I can’t 

 

**Princesa De [REDACTED]** : Hush, niño. Anyway, I used  **[REDACTED]** ’s database and algorithms and found a reputable source for under the table Russian websites so you can learn 

 

**Princesa De [REDACTED]** : Damn, can’t even say my country’s name

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : You know  _ why. _ Where did you find it? Send it over por favor? 

 

**Princesa De [REDACTED]** : Done

 

_ FILE RECIEVED _

_ OPEN?  _

 

**Hombre De Arañas** : GRACIÁS! 

 

Peter grinned as he clicked on ‘OPEN’, waiting patiently as it started to load. Often, any files they sent over were analyzed and put through a system to ensure no information is harmful and/or hiding anything. It makes the page load longer, but in the long run it was necessary.

 

“Oh thank the heavens. I owe you one, Shuri,” he mumbled as it finally opened. 

 

Learning languages had never been hard for him, given his near perfect visual memory, but it was difficult finding places to learn languages reliably. Once he learns something incorrect, it was in his memory and it’s hard for him to replace it with the correct information.   

 

The top of the page showed the Russian alphabet and their pronunciations, thankfully. 

 

He could go ahead and translate the phrase from his dream/nightmare. If his auditory memory was right, and he sounded it out, the phrase had sounded  _ something  _ like: potamoosh-toe-ve-buyeetsa-smiertyo-ile-stradayete-svoim-neproizvol-nym-umom. 

 

He was  _ so  _ screwed.

 

He ignored that thought and instead grabbed a small, spare notebook he spotted on the bookshelf by the wall and set out to translate the phrase, however, he ran into a bump almost immediately. 

 

He knew what the phrase had sounded like. He really did. But one thing he did  _ not  _ know was the difference between an ‘o’, ‘oo’, and ‘yoo,’ sound in Russian. 

 

All he had written was; П (у/ё/Ю?? All sound like o...or was it an a??). Which, was in fact, completely useless.

 

What was he going to do now? Peter couldn’t remember how certain parts were phrased together or pronounced. He would have to hear each part over again. 

 

His blood ran cold at the thought. If he continued having the same nightmare, no matter how terrifying, he needed to pay attention to what the  _ thing _ was saying. Peter didn’t know if he had the mental stability to do that, however. Or what about the  _ physical  _ stability, now as well. Somehow, whatever was happening in his nightmare was now transcending into reality. 

 

Peter’s breath picked up. What would would happen if he fell asleep in front of Tony or the others? What if the  _ thing _ straight-up ripped off his arm in the nightmare? How would that be implemented into real life? What if one day he falls asleep and he  _ never wakes u _ -

 

A loud, sharp ringing interrupted his panicking spiral. His burner phone? Why was it going off? Peter tried to get his breath under control, before frowning.

 

He clicked the answer button, and brought it up to his ear. 

 

“....Hello?” He hesitantly answered, pitching his voice lower just in case.

 

“Baby boy!!” The most annoying voice in the world exclaimed over the phone. 

 

“Wade,” Peter sighed in a mix of relief and annoyance, “Why did you call me?” 

 

“What? I can’t just call my fav Spider?” 

 

Peter could practically  _ hear _ his pout over the phone. 

 

“No. You can’t,” he said bluntly, “Not so soon after I typed in the chat.” 

 

“Okayyy,  _ fiiiine _ ,” He heard Wade sigh in fake despair.

 

“Why did you really call me?” Peter tapped his foot on the floor next to his bed. 

 

“Before I tell you, why were you looking to learn Russian?” 

 

“Why should I tell you?” He challenged Wade. 

 

“Mmmm~, just know that whatever I say will be worth your tiiiiiime!” Wade sang out the sentence. 

 

“Always you and your stupid deals,” Peter muttered, “Alright. Whatever, you win.” 

 

As soon as he heard Wade’s voice over the phone, Peter knew he would eventually end up telling him everything. It had always happened with anything ever, and he knew Wade would eventually do something to get it out of him. 

 

“I wanted to learn Russia because...well, because recently Hydra - do you know Hydra? You probably do - anyway, Hydra has been messing with me. I’ve been having these, things. I don’t know what to call them but all I know is that it has a significant role in whatever they’re doing to me. And - there’s a phrase said in Russian. I need to know what it means. I can’t- I feel like I’m losing my mind already and it’s only happened twice. I  _ need _ to know what it means, and maybe - if it means nothing - I’ll be able to rest my mind and I’ll know I’m overreacting. That I’m just, making it up,” Peter clutched onto the phone in slight desperation, spilling the things that have been plaguing his mind since the building first collapsed on him. 

 

There was silence on the line for a solid minute, before Wade finally responded, his voice uncharacteristically serious. 

 

“I can help you. I have - let’s say  _ inside _ information from a certain author. Don’t worry baby boy, Hydra is going  _ down _ .” 

 

Peter could only breathe a sigh of relief. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know WHAT happened with this chapter, but it’s chaos and a tad of impulsive writing. This chapter is all over the place, but I tried lol. Hope you liked it though? I love kudos, but I love comments even more! They’re what keep me going

**Author's Note:**

> Phew okay, this is the first part to a Two-Shot (though if I get asked enough I'll consider continuing it). Let me just say a few things though; Hart Island is a real island, it's in Bronx, New York. Yes, it's a cemetery island. Yes, it's uninhabited. Yes, I couldn't actually get a lot of information on it. It was fascinating to me and it fit in so well with the story. Originally, I wrote this just to be a story where a building collapsed on Peter, but then somehow Hydra got involved and I did a lot, and i mean a LOT of research on a lot of different things and voila! This happened. I am currently writing Chapter Two, so I estimate an update on August 3rd or before. I hope it's before. Though my mom just got out of the hospital and I have to take care of her so forgive me. Okay! I'll end this here 'cause it's getting a bit long. Please comment or kudos, I would really appreciate it! Even if it's just pointing out a grammar or spelling error. Thank you for reading this, I'll try to update as soon as I can!
> 
> ~Logan


End file.
